


A Demon’s Solace To Covet Humanity

by Cakeenkets



Category: Aphmau Minecraft Diaries, aphmau - Fandom, diaries - Fandom, mcd - Fandom
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Study, Child Neglect, Dubcon Kissing, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized racism, Kidnapping, M/M, Making Out, Self-Hatred, Swearing, Transformation, im sorry, kind of lol, kind of? do demons count as a race?, travis has a shitty life, travis valkrum-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 06:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19987957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cakeenkets/pseuds/Cakeenkets
Summary: In which, the high priest, Zane Ro’Meave successfully obtains all relics, except for one, Enki's relic.





	A Demon’s Solace To Covet Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaa idk im sorry?  
> please read the tags as some of the content might be uncomfortable to some readers. thank you!

Rust. The smell of rust and copper filled his nose.

Travis' eyes slowly fluttered open at the sudden and abrupt stinging sensation filling his nose. He opened his eyes as the nausea from the strong smells in his surroundings overwhelmed his senses, yet as he peeled open his emerald colored eyes, all he saw was black, _darkness_. 

He immediately panicked, his body automatically tensing and sitting upward. His head throbbed at the sudden gesture. A distinct stinging pressure wrapped the temples of his forehead. He inwardly cursed and he swore his eyesight had blacked out for a fleeting moment as well. If it did, he wouldn't have known for everything he saw was black either way.

Tugging his wrists, he tried bringing his hand up to his forehead, hoping to somewhat relieve the headache he suddenly acquired, only to wince instead as a throbbing pain coursed through his wrists. He found them bound by something cold and heavy. Widening his eyes, his chest started heaving as a panic started brewing inside him.

With a quick tilt of his body, he soon realized that his wrists weren't the only ones bruising under the heaviness of the metal chains. The skin on his neck made contact with something cool and tight around his neck, constricting his airflow slightly and generally making it harder for him to breathe. The weighty chains secured around the metallic collar didn’t help either in keeping his head up for more than a minute.

The sound of metal chains echoed throughout the entire field of darkness as Travis tugged at his wrists again, trying to reach for the collar clamped around his neck. He desperately tried to reach for the cold metal to get a feel of the material. His fingers stretching as far as they could but they could only go as far as just a few inches above his hipline, before curling in an attempt to satisfy the need to claw onto the thing on his neck. His breathing quickened and he struggled to keep his hands from twitching, itching to just wrap his fingers around the collar.

The chains made more noise at his every attempt and Travis felt sicker and sicker as he the sound echoed in his ears. He didn't know where he was and he didn’t know why he was here. Here, bounded in chains and locked away in complete utter darkness. 

He couldn't smell the earthy ground of his island or the salty yet refreshing smell of the sea. All he could smell was copper, metal, _blood_ , and _death_. He couldn't feel the aura of his island. _No_ , wherever he was, he was far away from Enki's island. Far _far_ away from the entire Gal'ruk Region. Hundreds of miles away.

Travis gulped, as his stomach dropped. His Adam's apple bobbed, his neck coming into contact chilly with the collar on his neck again. He didn't even try to resist the shiver that passed through his entire body.

He couldn't remember what happened. 

_What happened?_

Travis’ chains clattered and echoed throughout the entire room again. It sounded more desperate than the experimental shifts and movements he did earlier. He hissed in pain. He was in so much pain. His entire body ached and throbbed.

He could understand the chains on his wrists but why the chains on his neck? A dread quickly settled inside the pits of his stomach and he struggled to keep his composure again as he imagined the worst. 

He needed to know what happened.

He needed to know what _he_ _did_.

His harsh and shallow breaths and the desperate pulls and tugs of the chains were the only sounds that could be heard in the darkness.

Until, it wasn’t.

The clacking sound of heels reverberated around the room.

Travis stiffened. He subtly planted the palm of his hand onto the ground and felt the surface for vibrations, pinpointing the direction of the sound to his left. He spun his head, his chains following behind and his neck ached from the abrupt movement.

"Who are you?", Travis called out.

His voice was strained and his throat burned as he pushed the words out his mouth. He hadn't realized how hoarse his voice was and how painful his throat had felt. It was as if his throat was made of sandpaper and it _burned_. He had to bite back the urge to cough only to keep a threatening face intact. It didn't do much though considering the position he was already in. He regretted shouting then. 

He was greeted back by the continuing sound of heels clacking against the—now what according to his fingertips and heightened sensory he guessed was—concrete floor.

Travis' patience was running thin. The panic and anxiety overwhelming him wasn't any help either. He gnashed his teeth.

"Show yourself, coward!", he shouted again.

The clacking of heels came to a halt and Travis could've sworn the room had dropped its temperature. 

Slowly, a faint glow of light flashed before him. Travis had to close his eyes as the light temporarily blinded his eyes. He opened them again not a few seconds later, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the spot of light in front of him.

As much as Travis was relieved to see light again, a dreaded feeling quickly replaced the relief he felt as his fingers twitched with uncertainty and the need to stand in a defensive position wrapped his entire body. He suddenly felt so much more vulnerable than before.

A figure emerged from the seemingly never ending stretch of darkness and a young man came into view. Prim and proper ebony black hair adorned his head in a neatly styled fashion, half of his hair was pulled back and the remaining was left to fall over half of his face, covering one of his eyes. One bright icy blue eye stared back at him. A scatter of freckles littered his pale almost porcelain-like face. 

A bored and disgusted expression dawned his face as he took a step closer to the white-haired man bound to the chains. A familiar look Travis received too often from the people residing in his own island.

"So this is the demon warlock the people of Enki's island are so _afraid_ of?"

Travis flinched at the sound of the man’s voice. It was cold, apathetic and completely devoid of any emotion aside from the subtle yet clear disdain it held. Travis’ face contorted into a grimace, that of the same expression as the man who stood before him. Travis hated that title, the curse his late father had inherited to him as soon as he was conceived into this realm. 

" _Pathetic_."

The words were stolen from the white-haired as they came out of the lips of the man in front of him, and despite painstakingly agreeing with the young man before him, Travis hated to hear it come from a voice that wasn't his own. 

A frustrated and involuntary growl escaped the demon's lips and the young man towering before him failed to contain a surprised face. A grin slowly worked its way onto his lips. It made the hairs at the back of the white-haired teen's stand up.

"A _human_ demon warlock," the young man said, his voice laced with interest and something else Travis couldn't quite determine, but it made Travis' stomach twist and turn in an unpleasant manner nonetheless.

Being called a demon was common for him. He _was_ a demon after all, and he grew up with people spitting the word at him like it was some kind of curse, throwing the words at him like it was some scum on the face of earth, like _he_ was some scum on the face of the earth, and maybe he was.

Travis was used to it so much that when hearing the words _'demon'_ in such a manner that the man before him had spoken, in such a delicate yet calculating voice, dripping with the highest class of venom, for once the poison not directed at him, Travis felt an unsettling feeling in his stomach.

"What do you want?", Travis spoke carefully, yet in the same aggression as before. “Why am I here?”, he asked more softly. He almost regretted asking the second question in fear of what he had done but he needed to know.

The young man simply eyed him over and Travis had never felt more apprehensive than that time he had first shown his face to the people who resided in his father's island. 

He suddenly became too aware of the purpling on his skin under the metal shackles that bound his arms and neck, and the many other bruises that adorned his skin, scattered on the different places in his body according to the dull pangs of pain he was feeling from everywhere. He became hyper aware of his torn and dirtied clothing, no doubt soaked in blood because of the strong metallic smell coming from it. He had only hoped in was his blood and his blood only. He didn't have much hope on that.

He was especially painfully aware of the growing desperation in his almost glowing emerald green eyes, begging for an answer from the man in front him, _anything_. He was aware of his shallow breathing, the faint yet never ending throbbing in his head, and of his degrading form. If it weren’t for the situation at hand, Travis would’ve been shameful of his appearance in front of such a handsome young man.

The silence between the two of them was deafening. Travis couldn't stand it but he willed his exterior not to falter and so he didn't. The young man seemed to be amused by this. 

"Enki's relic,” he finally spoke with such delicacy, his voice deep and rich. Travis was aware of what he was referring to.

"You are the son of the demon warlock, correct? I heard a rumor—"

The young man didn't wait for confirmation before he continued, and just by that, Travis could tell that this was a man was who didn't have a lot of patience in him. And that usually meant that he was the type that would do anything to get what he wanted, even if it meant that he had to result to more extreme alternatives as long as it was quick and it finished the job. A bead of cold sweat trickled down Travis' forehead. 

He begun to approach Travis calmly despite the information he had just announced regarding the young adult's entire being. Travis would've almost praised him for the bravery but now wasn't the time, he had to remind himself. The young man was either foolish for approaching him so carelessly or he was too confident in his own skills. Travis had hoped for the former but he wasn't that stupid as he knew which answer was more likely, and it wasn't the one he was hoping for.

"—That the demon warlock's son had turned against him." 

Travis swallowed thickly. The young man's eyes shone coldly. All interest and whatever little mock personality in his voice had dropped as he then said, "The demon warlock has been dead for years. You have his relic."

It was a statement, not a rumor or an accusation and so the young man stated it just like that. The man placed his hand onto Travis' cheek. His hands were cold, almost dead-like and surprisingly, rough and calloused as if he had fought in a hundred wars, and may have even started a few of those hundred wars. Travis shivered at the contact.

"Why should I give it to you?", the white-haired adult tried to spit back with as much venom as he could muster.

Years of loneliness and detachment from the rest of humanity had honed Travis' skills in perfecting in putting up a strong and fearsome facade, made to set a warning to those who wished to speak with him that he was in fact, a dangerous being. Every time the white-haired adult had to pull on that mask, it broke his heart and simultaneously disgusted him. It reminded him too much of his father, minus the acting part because the demon warlock was a naturally cruel and dangerous being, unlike Travis, but Travis had no choice. He had to push people away. He had to protect himself and those people around him from himself.

The young man, however, did not falter. He towered over Travis' form.

"Because if you don’t," the young man began as his hand moved to grip on Travis' chin, forcing the white-haired's bright emerald green eyes to look into the young man's lone chilling blue eye. His grip tightened and he grinned, "I will have to rip it from you like the way I ripped it off the others."

_Others._

Travis took a shuddering breath.

"I bet those other's weren't demons, were they?" 

The words left Travis before the white-haired could process them. It sickened him to acknowledge himself as a demon. It always did, but he forced himself to swallow his distaste and he twisted a smug smile onto his face as he let the acknowledgement roll out of his tongue. _Disgusting_.

"Hmm?", the young man hummed. The grin on his freckled face subsided a little but not completely as his eye sparked a hint of amusement and curiosity. He tilted Travis’ jaw, as if he were examining the white-haired man's features.

Travis flushed. He took a shaky breath before continuing, his false grin not leaving his features. "You can’t kill me," he said lowly. 

The young man lifted an eyebrow as his face went blank. His cold fingers stopped tracing the line on Travis' jaw and his cold eyes pierced through Travis'. His expression was unreadable. 

Travis took this as a sign to continue, and so he did. "You can kill my body but my soul will still be alive," he tilted his head mockingly. It was a foolish move to taunt your captors but Travis had to act fearless. He let a cocky smile appear on his face. "Alive and still attached to Enki's relic."

That was a lie. All of it was complete and utter bullshit and Travis knew it. Travis' soul wouldn't live even if his body was killed. He would die. He wasn't completely demon, unlike his father so he would die because he was still part human, and that was thanks to his mother's side. He would continue to embrace that human side of him no matter how weak his father or anybody else thought of it. 

Travis also didn't have Enki's relic. He refused to wield it when his father had dropped it after his death so Travis kept it away, sealed it somewhere no one would ever find it, but he would never tell that to the young man. If being bound here, wherever here was, meant that he could prevent this new evil, this _young man_ from getting his hands onto a powerful relic that may doom the entire empire if used immorally, then so be it. Travis would do anything to keep humanity safe even if humanity has failed him countless of times.

Anger flashed through the young man’s expression and Travis barely suppressed the impulse to recoil. The expression disappeared just as quick as it had appeared as the young man had immediately composed himself. 

Before Travis could register the sudden change of emotions, his head was thrown back. The white-haired man coughed as he nearly choked when the chain on the his neck clinked from the impact. No doubt that would leave an aching and nasty bruise.

The earlier scowl on the young man's features returned, much subtler yet deadlier than before. He snarled, “I will get that relic even if it meant I would have to rip it from your soul bit by bit!”

The young man stood up and he wiped his hands onto pants. Travis frowned at the implications of the action. 

“Who are you?”, Travis asked without much of a thought. For a descendant of Enki, he was not the wisest with his actions, especially when under pressure.

The young man stared at him, impassive and unmoving. His eye narrowed as he straightened his posture. It was obvious to Travis that this man was noble.

“It doesn’t matter," he replied.

“If you tell me, I might give you the relic.”

Now Travis was just testing the limits of his luck and he knew the young man knew that as well. A flash of irritation crossed the ebony-haired man's face before being replaced with a bored and neutral expression once again.

“Zane Ro’meave", he finally said. "Son of the Lord of O’khasis and High Priest of the Faith of Lady Irene," he added with pride and the ghost of a smile imprinting his face.

_High Priest._ Of course, they’d send a priest after him. Travis grimaced.

“So you better give up that relic before I perform an exorcism on you, Valkrum.”

Travis stared at him in shock and disbelief. He knew Travis. He knew his real name.

Zane Ro'meave merely grinned at the shocked white-haired adult. He cocked his head as if to mimic a bored expression but Travis knew otherwise. 

“Travis Valkrum", Zane began. Travis dreaded the words that came out next from the high priest's mouth. "Descendent of Enki and son of the late demon warlock. The entire regions hates you, fears you and so you live alone, outcasted by the rest of society in your sad little island.”

Travis winced as each word pushed a dagger deeper into old stab wounds that refused to heal. 

“Humanity is distasteful, isn’t it?", Zane said in a tone much like Travis' father but not entirely. There was a tinge of sympathy and something different that Travis couldn't pinpoint. Zane casted his eye onto his side before lifting them up to meet Travis' gaze.

"Don’t you ever wish to bring suffering among all of humanity?” The unreadable monotone voice disappeared and was replaced with a rage and bitterness Travis related to so much in his childhood. It took a great deal of effort to remind himself of his morality. 

Zane kneeled down on the bloodstained concrete floor and Travis held back the surprise and confusion that a person with such a high status would kneel down in front of him. Zane curled his fingers onto Travis’ collar and he brought it close to his face. Travis stiffened and Zane brought his mouth to his ear, almost brushing the demon’s ear. His breath was hot, a stark contrast to the young man’s overall cool and chilling appearance, and Travis shivered.

“Give me the relic and I promise to you, we will inflict so much misery and torture onto this depressing excuse of an empire that they’d wish that they hadn’t treated us like we were _nothing_ to them before.”

_We_.

Travis shuddered and the young man pulled away. He cursed his body for reacting in such a manner and he never felt more disgusting than he already was. Travis had hoped that Zane did not notice but the expression the man wore was of a blank and empty stare, before a small smile eventually imprinted on his lips.

_Irene_ , that smile.

That smile has probably fooled hundreds of women and hundreds of lords alike. That smile has whispered too many empty and unfulfilled promises and has declared too many broken oaths. And despite all of that, Travis found himself staring at that smile, entranced by the way the corners of the young man’s lips are so delicately curved upwards to form that smile that could simultaneously keep you safe _and_ stab you in the back.

That smile twisted into a grin and Travis became aware of the fact that he was staring. A burning heat crept up his face.

“It’s such a shame," Zane began speaking again. He waved his hand dismissively. "All this power and yet you wish to stay human.”

Humanity. Human. Travis wanted to be completely human. Zane on the other hand, every bit of him was painstakingly human and he didn’t even need to try. Travis hated him for it. An anger started bubbling in his chest. Envy devoured him. 

Zane stood. He seemed to be watching the resentment dancing in Travis' eyes with entertainment. Travis shamefully relaxed his narrowed eyes and furrowed brows, releasing a low and heavy sigh. 

The silence stretched and Travis shifted while Zane on the other hand, kept his composure. He didn't seem completely bothered by the silence. 

Travis didn't even know why Zane was even watching him. If he was the son of such an important figure within the entire region, the entire empire he might add, why was he wasting his time down here in this dungeon with Travis? (Well, Travis assumed it was a dungeon. He never bothered to ask.) Didn’t he have any lower class underlings to do his dirty work for him?

Travis could only grow sicker as he imagined what the ebony-haired young man was scheming, what the ebony-haired young man was scheming about him. Travis failed to suppress a shiver.

His eyes shot up and Zane looked at him curiously. Travis could feel it. A familiar sensation creeping on his skin, on his entire being whenever his body felt threatened or tense.

_No._

“Why don’t you ever transform into your demon form?”, Zane spoke again and Travis couldn’t have whipped his head faster at the high priest towering over him. Any other time, Travis would have appreciated the high priest for breaking the tense silence but not now. _Not now._

Travis' neck burned and it was more agonizing than the other times it happened since the white-haired adult was trying so hard to suppress it, harder than he’s ever had to suppress it. If he relaxed now, just even the littlest bit, his humanity would break, and he couldn’t risk that. Especially not in front of _him_.

When Travis did not speak, Zane continued, " We’re both monsters here, does it matter?”

Travis bit back the urge to scoff despite the creeping fear on the back of his neck. Instead, he pulled on the deadliest glare he could muster at the moment, directing it at the high priest. “You say that but you don’t look like it", Travis said.

“And so do you.”

“You don’t know that yet.”

Travis clamped his mouth shut and it was at this moment, he usually put his hands over his mouth to avoid saying anything more stupid but his hands were bound. His hands shook and he had to dig his nails into the palm of his hand to calm them down.

Zane mused at this new information. 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_. Travis bit his lip so hard that it drew blood.

Zane's eye stared at his lips and when Travis noticed, Zane quickly turned his head. 

Travis didn't have time to muse over this for he could feel his _demon_ form fighting for dominance against his human skin and he struggled to keep his human form on the surface. He could feel his skin itch and he knew he would turn in any second.

_No no no no no **no**. _

Fear was quickly swallowing his whole and each breath he took was more painful than the last. He dug his nails onto the concrete floor, no longer caring whether or not his nails would break. If anything, he hoped they did.

They did not bleed, and that scared Travis even more.

_Stop looking at me._

He wanted to shout but he was too concentrated in the task at hand. He could feel Zane's icy blue eye piercing through him, waiting in anticipation.

_Get away from me._

His skin was hot, burning, scorching, like acid dripping onto his skin like molasses. Usually, it didn’t hurt this much. Usually, he didn’t have to fight it back as much.

He can’t transform now. Not in front of this young man and his single eye filled to the brim and overflowing with malice. Not when he had a point he had to stand by with. He could feel whatever’s left in him that’s to remind him of his humanity, that he was in fact human, slipping away like goo. He felt like an animal shedding its skin except his skin felt like melting, oozing from the gaps of his trembling fingers.

Random patches of his skin burned in an agonizingly slow pace. He swallowed hard, taking in the worsening discomfort, taking in _everything_. Though, comfort was the least of his worries. There was too much negative energy in the air. Too much negative energy just from himself. He can’t handle it. His eyes were stinging as he fought to keep them open and unblinking. Tears were threatening at the edges.

And he blinked.

A bright violent flash of violet blinded his vision temporarily and he recoiled, coughing violently, limbs heavy but they didn’t feel as fatigued as they should be. The achenes from his head lessened tremendously. The dull pain running through his entire body faded away. He felt numb. His ears were still ringing, and his breathing was wild and erratic.

Black spots peppered his vision but as he blinked the last of the darkness away, his eyes caught sight of a surprised high priest towering before him with a different expression breaking into the man’s usual unmoving expressionless face. The young man’s single visible eye was wide in poorly hidden awe. Travis’ stomach lurched. Bile rose in his throat.

The white-haired didn’t need to catch a glimpse of his jet black flesh or feel the rough leather-like exterior of it to know he had lost control _again_. If anything, the dull ache returning to the top of his head was enough for a reminder that no matter how much he tried, how much he trained, worked hard, suppressed, _hurt_ himself over it, he could never grasp a control over this sickening form. He _hated_ it. He hated _him_ for cursing him with it.

In unconcealed shame, he ducked his head as low as he could, trying whatever energy’s left in him to tuck his form and hide away in hopes that he would rot away in the farthest corner of the room. Unfortunately, he could only do so much with the chains wrapped around his neck and wrists. It hurt. Everything hurt. He was in so much pain. Tears stained his dark black skin.

He wanted so badly, so desperately to reach beyond his face, right past his wet violet eyes and messy matted white hair, up to the base of his inky black horns. He wanted to rip them off. He wanted to grip them and shatter them in his hold, feeling the broken pieces of it slip through his fingers as they scar and prickle the rough skin of his palm like it was some hallow piece of porcelain accessory. Who was he kidding? Comparing these _ugly_ horns to beautiful porcelain? He felt so disgusting with them. They were nothing more than a painful reminder of what he was. _A demon._

A pale hand brushed his chin and prompted him to rise his head yet Travis stubbornly tried so hard to keep his head down as he shamefully hiccupped sobs. No doubt his face was entirely flushed, tears mixing with the blood on his lips, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. His pride was long gone and crumpled to the ground, stomped on and spat at like any other scum of the earth.

The grip of the fingers tighten on his chin and Travis' face was forcefully brought up to face Zane's. The young priest’s gaze bore no traces of previous disgust or contempt, and it if it weren't for the anxiety and dysphoria clouding Travis’ mind and the tears blurring his vision, Travis would have even spotted a tinge of compassion in the man’s features, but if there were any, none of them spoke of it.

Their faces were close. Too close for comfort. Travis could feel the other’s breath hot on his skin. Travis' chest rose and he began taking quick and shallow breaths. He was hyperventilating. He knew it. He wanted to get out, get out of the hold of these cold fingers, out of these chains and go out and hide. Hide his face forever, like he always did in that lonely house in that miserable island. 

He wanted _out_.

Tears broke and Zane closed the distance between their lips. Travis' eyes snapped open, bright and purple irises staring back at the high priest he hadn't noticed that had already kneeled in front of him. The white-haired demon’s body instantly went rigid at the touch.

Zane's mouth was hot and wet and Travis whimpered against it, finally finding it in him to find control of his body again as he twitched. The moment Travis gasped, the young man’s tongue rolled effortlessly, if not forceful into Travis’ mouth and Travis struggled to keep his breathing pace normal. Travis moaned, saliva trickling down his mouth as he desperately tried to take in air; Whining into the kiss and squirming to break free.

Zane parted for a split second, giving into Travis’ silent requests but before Travis could take a breath of relief, Zane abruptly pressed their lips together again, much more fiery and all-consuming.

Travis’ eyes fluttered shut and the water forming at the edge of his eyes fell down his face as he lost all of his senses, now focusing solely on the exchange he and Zane were having and the every little movement the ebony-haired was doing to him. 

Both of Zane’s hands palmed Travis’ face and they snaked their way up to the demon’s white hair, tugging at it, pulling it so that their faces were closer than they already were. Zane had planted himself on top of Travis and Travis could feel the heat tightening around his abdomen.

Travis wanted so badly to touch the ebony hair that adorned the young man's face. He wanted to touch the noble man as much as the noble man was touching him. He needed to breathe. He desperately tugged the chains on his wrists. He winced and he gasped.

One kiss turned into two, and then three, and then _another and another_. The kisses were rough, forceful and hungry, full of teeth and impulsive nature. It was a tangle of limbs, metal chains and mixed yearnings of lustful want and the need to breathe.

Zane finally pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the two of their mouths as the two of them panted heavily, chests visibly heaving. The high priest's entire face was flushed, blood from Travis’ lips smeared onto his own, and Travis' own face flushed harder at the sight. His ebony black hair was a mess.

Zane’s lone icy blue eye was blown, dilated and wide, as if he too, was surprised by the turn of events. His eye flashed a brief hint of regret before turning into a look of feverish almost feral want Travis was familiar of despite not having seen that expression from anyone ever before. Zane’s neat hair was messy and it stuck and clung onto his face as sweat trickled down his face. The sprinkle of freckles on his face were highlighted by the deep dishonorable flush on his porcelain-colored skin. In a hazy daze, Travis thought that he liked the high priest better looking that way.

It took Travis a few blinks before the gears in his brain turned and the events of what had just occurred registered into his brain. The tear tracks on his face dampened again with big fat tears as a plethora of mixed emotions devoured him.

"What—", Travis panted. "— _the fuck_?!"

Zane wiped his lips with the sleeve of his clothing.

Travis’ body began to tremble, his eyes, confused and darting from one place to another.

What. The. _Fuck_.

Travis’ breathing became labored. Tears betrayingly fell down on his face. He furiously blinked them away as he was not able to wipe them away with his hands. He felt so vulnerable and he couldn’t do anything about it. It reminded him too much of the few times his father had managed to take him away from his mother, away from his mother's blanket of safety, and brought him into the dark and dreadful realm of his father's.

It was too dark in here. Too dark and too cold. Travis wanted it out of here. He wanted to bask under the warmth of the sun and be human.

He wanted out there with humanity as a human.

He wanted to feel _human_.

Another sob wracked his body and he choked back another.

Zane calmly pressed their foreheads together and Travis didn’t have the energy to try and shy away from the touch this time. He gasped soft sobs as he continued to shake against the high priest.

"You are not a disgusting monster."

Travis watched Zane’s mouth with wide and glassy eyes as the high priest’s lips twitched and moved as if he were speaking but Travis didn’t hear the deep frigid voice in them as they opened to speak. All he heard was a soft delicate and unshaken voice of a familiar young woman, speaking to him in a hushed yet reassuring tone. His heart wrenched in his chest. Travis wanted to believe it. He _really_ did.

With that, his lips were once again pressed onto Zane’s but the kiss was far more careful and gentler than any of the kisses they've shared that night. It was sweet and tender, and Travis could feel the high priest's thumb wipe away the tears that had rolled down his face, but the gesture only made Travis cry even harder.

He pulled away, and breathed.

"You are unfailingly human, Travis Valkrum.”

Zane Ro’meave locked eyes with the white-haired adult with conviction.

"And I _hate_ that about you."

He pressed their foreheads together again, sticky from the sweat on their skin and he whispered.

"I want you. Join me in my army."

Travis looked at him, eyes tired and red rimmed. His breathing took too long to even out but he managed to push out long deep slow breaths. His brows furrowed in the slightest movement. He didn’t have that much time to think of an answer. He didn’t need to. He already knew what his answer was right from the start.

"No”, he answered softly.

A flash of hurt adorned the young man's features. For a fleeting moment, the high priest looked vulnerable and wounded. It was another familiar sight. The familiarity was sadder than the other memories Travis was reminded of that night or day—he still didn’t know. Travis knew that look with all his damaged heart, seen it every time he looked at a mirror. He almost wanted to take back his answer.

Travis didn’t know how long that look lasted on the high priest’s face as black spots began dancing in his vision. Zane Ro’meave’s face was the last thing he saw before he slipped into the lull of unconsciousness.

Earthy.

Travis' eyes slowly fluttered open as the smell of the salty fresh sea filled his nostrils. 

Travis gingerly tilted his head as he took in his surroundings. His fingers curled and gripped onto whatever he could in his grasp, half expecting his nails to graze the rough blood-stained concrete ground of a dark dungeon only to pleasantly feel the softness of a pillow buried in a thin blanket in his touch. He was on his bed. Soft and snug. Warm light filtered through the half drawn white curtains on the windows and Travis redirected his gaze onto its glass panes.

He groaned as he delicately hoisted himself up. He was in his house. His skin flinched as his bare feet made contact with the cool wooden floor and he dragged himself to the window in his room, ignoring the ghost of a dull pain lingering in his body.

Travis peeked through the curtains and his soft hazy green eyes caught sight of small twigs and rocks lightly covered in dirty white sand, and small waves coming from the sea swooshing and dampening the sand in a peaceful calming fashion.

He found himself dressed in his usual casual long sleeved white shirt and dirty worn out pants. The floorboards of his humble home groaned as he made his way to the door, sagely grabbing his equally old coat from the coat rack and his battered up boots scattered on the front of his doorstep. Gently putting them on, he began to walk on the sand, away from his house, away from the island’s shoreline and into the deep woods.

Being born and growing up in this island, Travis found no effort in maneuvering his way into and past forest. Cold wind whipped past his face, his white hair dancing in the wind together with the leaves of the trees while branches added more light scratches on to the sleeves of his coat as he passed through.

His light footsteps came to a stop and he stood in front of a structure, a cave carefully hidden away by thick vines and large roots of trees with branches full of leaves, effectively hiding any evidences of a cave existing behind its mass of vegetation.

Travis would've convinced himself that the encounter with the high priest had all simply been a nightmare, a _dream_ despite the experience of it feeling so real, if it weren't for the fact that as he pushed back the leaves, walked up the stony pathway inside the cave leading up to the shrine that held Enki’s most valued possessions, checked the humble quartz formation that held his sacred artifacts in the depths of his cave, there, he found _nothing_. 

Enki's relic was gone.

Travis’ breathe hitched.

And the high priest, Zane Ro’Meave has it. He has it. He has them all.

Everything but Travis Valkrum.

**Author's Note:**

> i love mcd more than mystreet and im so glad i finally got to write some mcd fics of my favorite boys.  
> i swear one of these days, i'll write some fluff for travis valkrum because god knows he needs some love ;; i put him through too much, im sorry


End file.
